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5.3: Hinduism (Bhagavad-Gita)

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    29 Hinduism (Bhagavad-Gita)

    The Bhagavad-Gita43

    CHAPTER II

    Sanjaya.
    Him, filled with such compassion and such grief,
    With eyes tear-dimmed, despondent, in stern words
    The Driver, Madhusudan, thus addressed:

    Krishna.
    How hath this weakness taken thee? Whence springs
    The inglorious trouble, shameful to the brave,
    Barring the path of virtue? Nay, Arjun!
    Forbid thyself to feebleness! it mars
    Thy warrior-name! cast off the coward-fit!
    Wake! Be thyself! Arise, Scourge of thy Foes!

    Arjuna.
    How can I, in the battle, shoot with shafts
    On Bhishma, or on Drona-O thou Chief!—
    Both worshipful, both honourable men?

    Better to live on beggar's bread
    With those we love alive,
    Than taste their blood in rich feasts spread,
    And guiltily survive!
    Ah! were it worse-who knows?—to be
    Victor or vanquished here,
    When those confront us angrily
    Whose death leaves living drear?
    In pity lost, by doubtings tossed,
    My thoughts-distracted-turn
    To Thee, the Guide I reverence most,
    That I may counsel learn:
    I know not what would heal the grief
    Burned into soul and sense,
    If I were earth's unchallenged chief—
    A god—and these gone thence!

    Sanjaya.
    So spake Arjuna to the Lord of Hearts,
    And sighing,"I will not fight!" held silence then.
    To whom, with tender smile, (O Bharata! )
    While the Prince wept despairing 'twixt those hosts,
    Krishna made answer in divinest verse:

    Krishna.
    Thou grievest where no grief should be! thou speak'st
    Words lacking wisdom! for the wise in heart
    Mourn not for those that live, nor those that die.
    Nor I, nor thou, nor any one of these,
    Ever was not, nor ever will not be,
    For ever and for ever afterwards.
    All, that doth live, lives always! To man's frame
    As there come infancy and youth and age,
    So come there raisings-up and layings-down
    Of other and of other life-abodes,
    Which the wise know, and fear not. This that irks—
    Thy sense-life, thrilling to the elements—
    Bringing thee heat and cold, sorrows and joys,
    'Tis brief and mutable! Bear with it, Prince!
    As the wise bear. The soul which is not moved,
    The soul that with a strong and constant calm
    Takes sorrow and takes joy indifferently,
    Lives in the life undying! That which is
    Can never cease to be; that which is not
    Will not exist. To see this truth of both
    Is theirs who part essence from accident,
    Substance from shadow. Indestructible,
    Learn thou! the Life is, spreading life through all;
    It cannot anywhere, by any means,
    Be anywise diminished, stayed, or changed.
    But for these fleeting frames which it informs
    With spirit deathless, endless, infinite,
    They perish. Let them perish, Prince! and fight!
    He who shall say, "Lo! I have slain a man!"
    He who shall think, "Lo! I am slain!" those both
    Know naught! Life cannot slay. Life is not slain!
    Never the spirit was born; the spirit shall cease to be never;
    Never was time it was not; End and Beginning are dreams!
    Birthless and deathless and changeless remaineth the spirit for ever;
    Death hath not touched it at all, dead though the house of it seems!

    Who knoweth it exhaustless, self-sustained,
    Immortal, indestructible,—shall such
    Say, "I have killed a man, or caused to kill?"

    Nay, but as when one layeth
    His worn-out robes away,
    And taking new ones, sayeth,
    "These will I wear to-day!"
    So putteth by the spirit
    Lightly its garb of flesh,
    And passeth to inherit
    A residence afresh.

    I say to thee weapons reach not the Life;
    Flame burns it not, waters cannot o'erwhelm,
    Nor dry winds wither it. Impenetrable,
    Unentered, unassailed, unharmed, untouched,
    Immortal, all-arriving, stable, sure,
    Invisible, ineffable, by word
    And thought uncompassed, ever all itself,
    Thus is the Soul declared! How wilt thou, then,—
    Knowing it so,—grieve when thou shouldst not grieve?
    How, if thou hearest that the man new-dead
    Is, like the man new-born, still living man—
    One same, existent Spirit—wilt thou weep?
    The end of birth is death; the end of death
    Is birth: this is ordained! and mournest thou,
    Chief of the stalwart arm! for what befalls
    Which could not otherwise befall? The birth
    Of living things comes unperceived; the death
    Comes unperceived; between them, beings perceive:
    What is there sorrowful herein, dear Prince?

    Wonderful, wistful, to contemplate!
    Difficult, doubtful, to speak upon!
    Strange and great for tongue to relate,
    Mystical hearing for every one!
    Nor wotteth man this, what a marvel it is,
    When seeing, and saying, and hearing are done!

    This Life within all living things, my Prince!
    Hides beyond harm; scorn thou to suffer, then,
    For that which cannot suffer. Do thy part!
    Be mindful of thy name, and tremble not!
    Nought better can betide a martial soul
    Than lawful war; happy the warrior
    To whom comes joy of battle—comes, as now,
    Glorious and fair, unsought; opening for him
    A gateway unto Heav'n. But, if thou shunn'st
    This honourable field—a Kshattriya—
    If, knowing thy duty and thy task, thou bidd'st
    Duty and task go by—that shall be sin!
    And those to come shall speak thee infamy
    From age to age; but infamy is worse
    For men of noble blood to bear than death!
    The chiefs upon their battle-chariots
    Will deem 'twas fear that drove thee from the fray.
    Of those who held thee mighty-souled the scorn
    Thou must abide, while all thine enemies
    Will scatter bitter speech of thee, to mock
    The valour which thou hadst; what fate could fall
    More grievously than this? Either—being killed—
    Thou wilt win Swarga's safety, or—alive
    And victor—thou wilt reign an earthly king.
    Therefore, arise, thou Son of Kunti! brace
    Thine arm for conflict, nerve thy heart to meet—
    As things alike to thee—pleasure or pain,
    Profit or ruin, victory or defeat:
    So minded, gird thee to the fight, for so
    Thou shalt not sin!

    Thus far I speak to thee
    As from the "Sankhya"—unspiritually—
    Hear now the deeper teaching of the Yog,
    Which holding, understanding, thou shalt burst
    Thy Karmabandh, the bondage of wrought deeds.
    Here shall no end be hindered, no hope marred,
    No loss be feared: faith—yea, a little faith—
    Shall save thee from the anguish of thy dread.
    Here, Glory of the Kurus! shines one rule—
    One steadfast rule—while shifting souls have laws
    Many and hard. Specious, but wrongful deem
    The speech of those ill-taught ones who extol
    The letter of their Vedas, saying, "This
    Is all we have, or need;" being weak at heart
    With wants, seekers of Heaven: which comes—they say—
    As "fruit of good deeds done;" promising men
    Much profit in new births for works of faith;
    In various rites abounding; following whereon
    Large merit shall accrue towards wealth and power;
    Albeit, who wealth and power do most desire
    Least fixity of soul have such, least hold
    On heavenly meditation. Much these teach,
    From Veds, concerning the "three qualities;"
    But thou, be free of the "three qualities,"
    Free of the "pairs of opposites,"[FN#2] and free
    From that sad righteousness which calculates;
    Self-ruled, Arjuna! simple, satisfied![FN#3]
    Look! like as when a tank pours water forth
    To suit all needs, so do these Brahmans draw
    Text for all wants from tank of Holy Writ.
    But thou, want not! ask not! Find full reward
    Of doing right in right! Let right deeds be
    Thy motive, not the fruit which comes from them.
    And live in action! Labour! Make thine acts
    Thy piety, casting all self aside,
    Contemning gain and merit; equable
    In good or evil: equability
    Is Yog, is piety!

    Yet, the right act
    Is less, far less, than the right-thinking mind.
    Seek refuge in thy soul; have there thy heaven!
    Scorn them that follow virtue for her gifts!
    The mind of pure devotion—even here—
    Casts equally aside good deeds and bad,
    Passing above them. Unto pure devotion
    Devote thyself: with perfect meditation
    Comes perfect act, and the right-hearted rise—
    More certainly because they seek no gain—
    Forth from the bands of body, step by step,
    To highest seats of bliss. When thy firm soul
    Hath shaken off those tangled oracles
    Which ignorantly guide, then shall it soar
    To high neglect of what's denied or said,
    This way or that way, in doctrinal writ.
    Troubled no longer by the priestly lore,
    Safe shall it live, and sure; steadfastly bent
    On meditation. This is Yog—and Peace!

    Arjuna.
    What is his mark who hath that steadfast heart,
    Confirmed in holy meditation? How
    Know we his speech, Kesava? Sits he, moves he
    Like other men?

    Krishna.
    When one, O Pritha's Son!
    Abandoning desires which shake the mind—
    Finds in his soul full comfort for his soul,
    He hath attained the Yog—that man is such!
    In sorrows not dejected, and in joys
    Not overjoyed; dwelling outside the stress
    Of passion, fear, and anger; fixed in calms
    Of lofty contemplation;—such an one
    Is Muni, is the Sage, the true Recluse!
    He who to none and nowhere overbound
    By ties of flesh, takes evil things and good
    Neither desponding nor exulting, such
    Bears wisdom's plainest mark! He who shall draw
    As the wise tortoise draws its four feet safe
    Under its shield, his five frail senses back
    Under the spirit's buckler from the world
    Which else assails them, such an one, my Prince!
    Hath wisdom's mark! Things that solicit sense
    Hold off from the self-governed; nay, it comes,
    The appetites of him who lives beyond
    Depart,—aroused no more. Yet may it chance,
    O Son of Kunti! that a governed mind
    Shall some time feel the sense-storms sweep, and wrest
    Strong self-control by the roots. Let him regain
    His kingdom! let him conquer this, and sit
    On Me intent. That man alone is wise
    Who keeps the mastery of himself! If one
    Ponders on objects of the sense, there springs
    Attraction; from attraction grows desire,
    Desire flames to fierce passion, passion breeds
    Recklessness; then the memory—all betrayed—
    Lets noble purpose go, and saps the mind,
    Till purpose, mind, and man are all undone.
    But, if one deals with objects of the sense
    Not loving and not hating, making them
    Serve his free soul, which rests serenely lord,
    Lo! such a man comes to tranquillity;
    And out of that tranquillity shall rise
    The end and healing of his earthly pains,
    Since the will governed sets the soul at peace.
    The soul of the ungoverned is not his,
    Nor hath he knowledge of himself; which lacked,
    How grows serenity? and, wanting that,
    Whence shall he hope for happiness?

    The mind
    That gives itself to follow shows of sense
    Seeth its helm of wisdom rent away,
    And, like a ship in waves of whirlwind, drives
    To wreck and death. Only with him, great Prince!
    Whose senses are not swayed by things of sense—
    Only with him who holds his mastery,
    Shows wisdom perfect. What is midnight-gloom
    To unenlightened souls shines wakeful day
    To his clear gaze; what seems as wakeful day
    Is known for night, thick night of ignorance,
    To his true-seeing eyes. Such is the Saint!

    And like the ocean, day by day receiving

    Floods from all lands, which never overflows
    Its boundary-line not leaping, and not leaving,

    Fed by the rivers, but unswelled by those;—

    So is the perfect one! to his soul's ocean
    The world of sense pours streams of witchery;
    They leave him as they find, without commotion,
    Taking their tribute, but remaining sea.

    Yea! whoso, shaking off the yoke of flesh
    Lives lord, not servant, of his lusts; set free
    From pride, from passion, from the sin of "Self,"
    Toucheth tranquillity! O Pritha's Son!
    That is the state of Brahm! There rests no dread
    When that last step is reached! Live where he will,
    Die when he may, such passeth from all 'plaining,
    To blest Nirvana, with the Gods, attaining.

    HERE ENDETH CHAPTER II. OF THE BHAGAVAD-GITA,
    Entitled "Sankhya-Yog,"
    Or "The Book of Doctrines."

    CHAPTER III

    Arjuna.
    Thou whom all mortals praise, Janardana!
    If meditation be a nobler thing
    Than action, wherefore, then, great Kesava!
    Dost thou impel me to this dreadful fight?
    Now am I by thy doubtful speech disturbed!
    Tell me one thing, and tell me certainly;
    By what road shall I find the better end?

    Krishna.
    I told thee, blameless Lord! there be two paths
    Shown to this world; two schools of wisdom.

    First
    The Sankhya's, which doth save in way of works
    Prescribed[FN#4] by reason; next, the Yog, which bids
    Attain by meditation, spiritually:
    Yet these are one! No man shall 'scape from act
    By shunning action; nay, and none shall come
    By mere renouncements unto perfectness.
    Nay, and no jot of time, at any time,
    Rests any actionless; his nature's law
    Compels him, even unwilling, into act;
    [For thought is act in fancy]. He who sits
    Suppressing all the instruments of flesh,
    Yet in his idle heart thinking on them,
    Plays the inept and guilty hypocrite:
    But he who, with strong body serving mind,
    Gives up his mortal powers to worthy work,
    Not seeking gain, Arjuna! such an one
    Is honourable. Do thine allotted task!
    Work is more excellent than idleness;
    The body's life proceeds not, lacking work.
    There is a task of holiness to do,
    Unlike world-binding toil, which bindeth not
    The faithful soul; such earthly duty do
    Free from desire, and thou shalt well perform
    Thy heavenly purpose. Spake Prajapati—
    In the beginning, when all men were made,
    And, with mankind, the sacrifice— "Do this!
    Work! sacrifice! Increase and multiply
    With sacrifice! This shall be Kamaduk,
    Your 'Cow of Plenty,' giving back her milk
    Of all abundance. Worship the gods thereby;
    The gods shall yield thee grace. Those meats ye crave
    The gods will grant to Labour, when it pays
    Tithes in the altar-flame. But if one eats
    Fruits of the earth, rendering to kindly Heaven
    No gift of toil, that thief steals from his world."

    Who eat of food after their sacrifice
    Are quit of fault, but they that spread a feast
    All for themselves, eat sin and drink of sin.
    By food the living live; food comes of rain,
    And rain comes by the pious sacrifice,
    And sacrifice is paid with tithes of toil;
    Thus action is of Brahma, who is One,
    The Only, All-pervading; at all times
    Present in sacrifice. He that abstains
    To help the rolling wheels of this great world,
    Glutting his idle sense, lives a lost life,
    Shameful and vain. Existing for himself,
    Self-concentrated, serving self alone,
    No part hath he in aught; nothing achieved,
    Nought wrought or unwrought toucheth him; no hope
    Of help for all the living things of earth
    Depends from him.[FN#5] Therefore, thy task prescribed
    With spirit unattached gladly perform,
    Since in performance of plain duty man
    Mounts to his highest bliss. By works alone
    Janak and ancient saints reached blessedness!
    Moreover, for the upholding of thy kind,
    Action thou should'st embrace. What the wise choose
    The unwise people take; what best men do
    The multitude will follow. Look on me,
    Thou Son of Pritha! in the three wide worlds
    I am not bound to any toil, no height
    Awaits to scale, no gift remains to gain,
    Yet I act here! and, if I acted not—
    Earnest and watchful—those that look to me
    For guidance, sinking back to sloth again
    Because I slumbered, would decline from good,
    And I should break earth's order and commit
    Her offspring unto ruin, Bharata!
    Even as the unknowing toil, wedded to sense,
    So let the enlightened toil, sense-freed, but set
    To bring the world deliverance, and its bliss;
    Not sowing in those simple, busy hearts
    Seed of despair. Yea! let each play his part
    In all he finds to do, with unyoked soul.
    All things are everywhere by Nature wrought
    In interaction of the qualities.
    The fool, cheated by self, thinks, "This I did"
    And "That I wrought; "but—ah, thou strong-armed Prince!—
    A better-lessoned mind, knowing the play
    Of visible things within the world of sense,
    And how the qualities must qualify,
    Standeth aloof even from his acts. Th' untaught
    Live mixed with them, knowing not Nature's way,
    Of highest aims unwitting, slow and dull.
    Those make thou not to stumble, having the light;
    But all thy dues discharging, for My sake,
    With meditation centred inwardly,
    Seeking no profit, satisfied, serene,
    Heedless of issue—fight! They who shall keep
    My ordinance thus, the wise and willing hearts,
    Have quittance from all issue of their acts;
    But those who disregard My ordinance,
    Thinking they know, know nought, and fall to loss,
    Confused and foolish. 'Sooth, the instructed one
    Doth of his kind, following what fits him most:
    And lower creatures of their kind; in vain
    Contending 'gainst the law. Needs must it be
    The objects of the sense will stir the sense
    To like and dislike, yet th' enlightened man
    Yields not to these, knowing them enemies.
    Finally, this is better, that one do
    His own task as he may, even though he fail,
    Than take tasks not his own, though they seem good.
    To die performing duty is no ill;
    But who seeks other roads shall wander still.

    Arjuna.
    Yet tell me, Teacher! by what force doth man
    Go to his ill, unwilling; as if one
    Pushed him that evil path?

    Krishna.
    Kama it is!
    Passion it is! born of the Darknesses,
    Which pusheth him. Mighty of appetite,
    Sinful, and strong is this!—man's enemy!
    As smoke blots the white fire, as clinging rust
    Mars the bright mirror, as the womb surrounds
    The babe unborn, so is the world of things
    Foiled, soiled, enclosed in this desire of flesh.
    The wise fall, caught in it; the unresting foe
    It is of wisdom, wearing countless forms,
    Fair but deceitful, subtle as a flame.
    Sense, mind, and reason—these, O Kunti's Son!
    Are booty for it; in its play with these
    It maddens man, beguiling, blinding him.
    Therefore, thou noblest child of Bharata!
    Govern thy heart! Constrain th' entangled sense!
    Resist the false, soft sinfulness which saps
    Knowledge and judgment! Yea, the world is strong,
    But what discerns it stronger, and the mind
    Strongest; and high o'er all the ruling Soul.
    Wherefore, perceiving Him who reigns supreme,
    Put forth full force of Soul in thy own soul!
    Fight! vanquish foes and doubts, dear Hero! slay
    What haunts thee in fond shapes, and would betray!

    HERE ENDETH CHAPTER III. OF THE BHAGAVAD-GITA,
    Entitled "Karma-Yog,"
    Or "The Book of Virtue in Work."

    CHAPTER IV

    Krishna.
    This deathless Yoga, this deep union,
    I taught Vivaswata,[FN#6] the Lord of Light;
    Vivaswata to Manu gave it; he
    To Ikshwaku; so passed it down the line
    Of all my royal Rishis. Then, with years,
    The truth grew dim and perished, noble Prince!
    Now once again to thee it is declared—
    This ancient lore, this mystery supreme—
    Seeing I find thee votary and friend.

    Arjuna.
    Thy birth, dear Lord, was in these later days,
    And bright Vivaswata's preceded time!
    How shall I comprehend this thing thou sayest,
    "From the beginning it was I who taught?"

    Krishna.
    Manifold the renewals of my birth
    Have been, Arjuna! and of thy births, too!
    But mine I know, and thine thou knowest not,
    O Slayer of thy Foes! Albeit I be
    Unborn, undying, indestructible,
    The Lord of all things living; not the less—
    By Maya, by my magic which I stamp
    On floating Nature-forms, the primal vast—
    I come, and go, and come. When Righteousness
    Declines, O Bharata! when Wickedness
    Is strong, I rise, from age to age, and take
    Visible shape, and move a man with men,
    Succouring the good, thrusting the evil back,
    And setting Virtue on her seat again.
    Who knows the truth touching my births on earth
    And my divine work, when he quits the flesh
    Puts on its load no more, falls no more down
    To earthly birth: to Me he comes, dear Prince!
    Many there be who come! from fear set free,
    From anger, from desire; keeping their hearts
    Fixed upon me—my Faithful—purified
    By sacred flame of Knowledge. Such as these
    Mix with my being. Whoso worship me,
    Them I exalt; but all men everywhere
    Shall fall into my path; albeit, those souls
    Which seek reward for works, make sacrifice
    Now, to the lower gods. I say to thee
    Here have they their reward. But I am He
    Made the Four Castes, and portioned them a place
    After their qualities and gifts. Yea, I
    Created, the Reposeful; I that live
    Immortally, made all those mortal births:
    For works soil not my essence, being works
    Wrought uninvolved.[FN#7] Who knows me acting thus
    Unchained by action, action binds not him;
    And, so perceiving, all those saints of old
    Worked, seeking for deliverance. Work thou
    As, in the days gone by, thy fathers did.

    Thou sayst, perplexed, It hath been asked before
    By singers and by sages, "What is act,
    And what inaction? "I will teach thee this,
    And, knowing, thou shalt learn which work doth save
    Needs must one rightly meditate those three—
    Doing,—not doing,—and undoing. Here
    Thorny and dark the path is! He who sees
    How action may be rest, rest action—he
    Is wisest 'mid his kind; he hath the truth!
    He doeth well, acting or resting. Freed
    In all his works from prickings of desire,
    Burned clean in act by the white fire of truth,
    The wise call that man wise; and such an one,
    Renouncing fruit of deeds, always content.
    Always self-satisfying, if he works,
    Doth nothing that shall stain his separate soul,
    Which—quit of fear and hope—subduing self—
    Rejecting outward impulse—yielding up
    To body's need nothing save body, dwells
    Sinless amid all sin, with equal calm
    Taking what may befall, by grief unmoved,
    Unmoved by joy, unenvyingly; the same
    In good and evil fortunes; nowise bound
    By bond of deeds. Nay, but of such an one,
    Whose crave is gone, whose soul is liberate,
    Whose heart is set on truth—of such an one
    What work he does is work of sacrifice,
    Which passeth purely into ash and smoke
    Consumed upon the altar! All's then God!
    The sacrifice is Brahm, the ghee and grain
    Are Brahm, the fire is Brahm, the flesh it eats
    Is Brahm, and unto Brahm attaineth he
    Who, in such office, meditates on Brahm.
    Some votaries there be who serve the gods
    With flesh and altar-smoke; but other some
    Who, lighting subtler fires, make purer rite
    With will of worship. Of the which be they
    Who, in white flame of continence, consume
    Joys of the sense, delights of eye and ear,
    Forgoing tender speech and sound of song:
    And they who, kindling fires with torch of Truth,
    Burn on a hidden altar-stone the bliss
    Of youth and love, renouncing happiness:
    And they who lay for offering there their wealth,
    Their penance, meditation, piety,
    Their steadfast reading of the scrolls, their lore
    Painfully gained with long austerities:
    And they who, making silent sacrifice,
    Draw in their breath to feed the flame of thought,
    And breathe it forth to waft the heart on high,
    Governing the ventage of each entering air
    Lest one sigh pass which helpeth not the soul:
    And they who, day by day denying needs,
    Lay life itself upon the altar-flame,
    Burning the body wan. Lo! all these keep
    The rite of offering, as if they slew
    Victims; and all thereby efface much sin.
    Yea! and who feed on the immortal food
    Left of such sacrifice, to Brahma pass,
    To The Unending. But for him that makes
    No sacrifice, he hath nor part nor lot
    Even in the present world. How should he share
    Another, O thou Glory of thy Line?

    In sight of Brahma all these offerings
    Are spread and are accepted! Comprehend
    That all proceed by act; for knowing this,
    Thou shalt be quit of doubt. The sacrifice
    Which Knowledge pays is better than great gifts
    Offered by wealth, since gifts' worth—O my Prince!
    Lies in the mind which gives, the will that serves:
    And these are gained by reverence, by strong search,
    By humble heed of those who see the Truth
    And teach it. Knowing Truth, thy heart no more
    Will ache with error, for the Truth shall show
    All things subdued to thee, as thou to Me.
    Moreover, Son of Pandu! wert thou worst
    Of all wrong-doers, this fair ship of Truth
    Should bear thee safe and dry across the sea
    Of thy transgressions. As the kindled flame
    Feeds on the fuel till it sinks to ash,
    So unto ash, Arjuna! unto nought
    The flame of Knowledge wastes works' dross away!
    There is no purifier like thereto
    In all this world, and he who seeketh it
    Shall find it—being grown perfect—in himself.
    Believing, he receives it when the soul
    Masters itself, and cleaves to Truth, and comes—
    Possessing knowledge—to the higher peace,
    The uttermost repose. But those untaught,
    And those without full faith, and those who fear
    Are shent; no peace is here or other where,
    No hope, nor happiness for whoso doubts.
    He that, being self-contained, hath vanquished doubt,
    Disparting self from service, soul from works,
    Enlightened and emancipate, my Prince!
    Works fetter him no more! Cut then atwain
    With sword of wisdom, Son of Bharata!
    This doubt that binds thy heart-beats! cleave the bond
    Born of thy ignorance! Be bold and wise!
    Give thyself to the field with me! Arise!

    HERE ENDETH CHAPTER IV. OF THE BHAGAVAD-GITA,
    Entitled "Jnana Yog,"
    Or "The Book of the Religion of Knowledge,"

    CHAPTER V Arjuna. Yet, Krishna! at the one time thou dost laud Surcease of works, and, at another time, Service through work. Of these twain plainly tell Which is the better way?

    Krishna.
    To cease from works
    Is well, and to do works in holiness
    Is well; and both conduct to bliss supreme;
    But of these twain the better way is his
    Who working piously refraineth not.

    That is the true Renouncer, firm and fixed,
    Who—seeking nought, rejecting nought—dwells proof
    Against the "opposites."[FN#8] O valiant Prince!
    In doing, such breaks lightly from all deed:
    'Tis the new scholar talks as they were two,
    This Sankhya and this Yoga: wise men know
    Who husbands one plucks golden fruit of both!
    The region of high rest which Sankhyans reach
    Yogins attain. Who sees these twain as one
    Sees with clear eyes! Yet such abstraction, Chief!
    Is hard to win without much holiness.
    Whoso is fixed in holiness, self-ruled,
    Pure-hearted, lord of senses and of self,
    Lost in the common life of all which lives—
    A "Yogayukt"—he is a Saint who wends
    Straightway to Brahm. Such an one is not touched
    By taint of deeds. "Nought of myself I do!"
    Thus will he think-who holds the truth of truths—
    In seeing, hearing, touching, smelling; when
    He eats, or goes, or breathes; slumbers or talks,
    Holds fast or loosens, opes his eyes or shuts;
    Always assured "This is the sense-world plays
    With senses."He that acts in thought of Brahm,
    Detaching end from act, with act content,
    The world of sense can no more stain his soul
    Than waters mar th' enamelled lotus-leaf.
    With life, with heart, with mind,-nay, with the help
    Of all five senses—letting selfhood go—
    Yogins toil ever towards their souls' release.
    Such votaries, renouncing fruit of deeds,
    Gain endless peace: the unvowed, the passion-bound,
    Seeking a fruit from works, are fastened down.
    The embodied sage, withdrawn within his soul,
    At every act sits godlike in "the town
    Which hath nine gateways,"[FN#9] neither doing aught
    Nor causing any deed. This world's Lord makes
    Neither the work, nor passion for the work,
    Nor lust for fruit of work; the man's own self
    Pushes to these! The Master of this World
    Takes on himself the good or evil deeds
    Of no man—dwelling beyond! Mankind errs here
    By folly, darkening knowledge. But, for whom
    That darkness of the soul is chased by light,
    Splendid and clear shines manifest the Truth
    As if a Sun of Wisdom sprang to shed
    Its beams of dawn. Him meditating still,
    Him seeking, with Him blended, stayed on Him,
    The souls illuminated take that road
    Which hath no turning back—their sins flung off
    By strength of faith. [Who will may have this Light;
    Who hath it sees.] To him who wisely sees,
    The Brahman with his scrolls and sanctities,
    The cow, the elephant, the unclean dog,
    The Outcast gorging dog's meat, are all one.

    The world is overcome—aye! even here!
    By such as fix their faith on Unity.
    The sinless Brahma dwells in Unity,
    And they in Brahma. Be not over-glad
    Attaining joy, and be not over-sad
    Encountering grief, but, stayed on Brahma, still
    Constant let each abide! The sage whose sou
    Holds off from outer contacts, in himself
    Finds bliss; to Brahma joined by piety,
    His spirit tastes eternal peace. The joys
    Springing from sense-life are but quickening wombs
    Which breed sure griefs: those joys begin and end!
    The wise mind takes no pleasure, Kunti's Son!
    In such as those! But if a man shall learn,
    Even while he lives and bears his body's chain,
    To master lust and anger, he is blest!
    He is the Yukta; he hath happiness,
    Contentment, light, within: his life is merged
    In Brahma's life; he doth Nirvana touch!
    Thus go the Rishis unto rest, who dwell
    With sins effaced, with doubts at end, with hearts
    Governed and calm. Glad in all good they live,
    Nigh to the peace of God; and all those live
    Who pass their days exempt from greed and wrath,
    Subduing self and senses, knowing the Soul!

    The Saint who shuts outside his placid soul
    All touch of sense, letting no contact through;
    Whose quiet eyes gaze straight from fixed brows,
    Whose outward breath and inward breath are drawn
    Equal and slow through nostrils still and close;
    That one-with organs, heart, and mind constrained,
    Bent on deliverance, having put away
    Passion, and fear, and rage;—hath, even now,
    Obtained deliverance, ever and ever freed.
    Yea! for he knows Me Who am He that heeds
    The sacrifice and worship, God revealed;
    And He who heeds not, being Lord of Worlds,
    Lover of all that lives, God unrevealed,
    Wherein who will shall find surety and shield!

    HERE ENDS CHAPTER V. OF THE BHAGAVAD-GITA,
    Entitled "Karmasanyasayog,"
    Or "The Book of Religion by Renouncing Fruit of Works."

    CHAPTER VI

    Krishna.
    Therefore, who doeth work rightful to do,
    Not seeking gain from work, that man, O Prince!
    Is Sanyasi and Yogi—both in one
    And he is neither who lights not the flame
    Of sacrifice, nor setteth hand to task.

    Regard as true Renouncer him that makes
    Worship by work, for who renounceth not
    Works not as Yogin. So is that well said:
    "By works the votary doth rise to faith,
    And saintship is the ceasing from all works;
    Because the perfect Yogin acts—but acts
    Unmoved by passions and unbound by deeds,
    Setting result aside.

    Let each man raise
    The Self by Soul, not trample down his Self,
    Since Soul that is Self's friend may grow Self's foe.
    Soul is Self's friend when Self doth rule o'er Self,
    But Self turns enemy if Soul's own self
    Hates Self as not itself.[FN#10]

    The sovereign soul
    Of him who lives self-governed and at peace
    Is centred in itself, taking alike
    Pleasure and pain; heat, cold; glory and shame.
    He is the Yogi, he is Yukta, glad
    With joy of light and truth; dwelling apart
    Upon a peak, with senses subjugate
    Whereto the clod, the rock, the glistering gold
    Show all as one. By this sign is he known
    Being of equal grace to comrades, friends,
    Chance-comers, strangers, lovers, enemies,
    Aliens and kinsmen; loving all alike,
    Evil or good.

    Sequestered should he sit,
    Steadfastly meditating, solitary,
    His thoughts controlled, his passions laid away,
    Quit of belongings. In a fair, still spot
    Having his fixed abode,—not too much raised,
    Nor yet too low,—let him abide, his goods
    A cloth, a deerskin, and the Kusa-grass.
    There, setting hard his mind upon The One,
    Restraining heart and senses, silent, calm,
    Let him accomplish Yoga, and achieve
    Pureness of soul, holding immovable
    Body and neck and head, his gaze absorbed
    Upon his nose-end,[FN#11] rapt from all around,
    Tranquil in spirit, free of fear, intent
    Upon his Brahmacharya vow, devout,
    Musing on Me, lost in the thought of Me.
    That Yojin, so devoted, so controlled,
    Comes to the peace beyond,—My peace, the peace
    Of high Nirvana!

    But for earthly needs
    Religion is not his who too much fasts
    Or too much feasts, nor his who sleeps away
    An idle mind; nor his who wears to waste
    His strength in vigils. Nay, Arjuna! call
    That the true piety which most removes
    Earth-aches and ills, where one is moderate
    In eating and in resting, and in sport;
    Measured in wish and act; sleeping betimes,
    Waking betimes for duty.

    When the man,
    So living, centres on his soul the thought
    Straitly restrained—untouched internally
    By stress of sense—then is he Yukta. See!
    Steadfast a lamp burns sheltered from the wind;
    Such is the likeness of the Yogi's mind
    Shut from sense-storms and burning bright to Heaven.
    When mind broods placid, soothed with holy wont;
    When Self contemplates self, and in itself
    Hath comfort; when it knows the nameless joy
    Beyond all scope of sense, revealed to soul—
    Only to soul! and, knowing, wavers not,
    True to the farther Truth; when, holding this,
    It deems no other treasure comparable,
    But, harboured there, cannot be stirred or shook
    By any gravest grief, call that state "peace,"
    That happy severance Yoga; call that man
    The perfect Yogin!

    Steadfastly the will
    Must toil thereto, till efforts end in ease,
    And thought has passed from thinking. Shaking off
    All longings bred by dreams of fame and gain,
    Shutting the doorways of the senses close
    With watchful ward; so, step by step, it comes
    To gift of peace assured and heart assuaged,
    When the mind dwells self-wrapped, and the soul broods
    Cumberless. But, as often as the heart
    Breaks—wild and wavering—from control, so oft
    Let him re-curb it, let him rein it back
    To the soul's governance; for perfect bliss
    Grows only in the bosom tranquillised,
    The spirit passionless, purged from offence,
    Vowed to the Infinite. He who thus vows
    His soul to the Supreme Soul, quitting sin,
    Passes unhindered to the endless bliss
    Of unity with Brahma. He so vowed,
    So blended, sees the Life-Soul resident
    In all things living, and all living things
    In that Life-Soul contained. And whoso thus
    Discerneth Me in all, and all in Me,
    I never let him go; nor looseneth he
    Hold upon Me; but, dwell he where he may,
    Whate'er his life, in Me he dwells and lives,
    Because he knows and worships Me, Who dwell
    In all which lives, and cleaves to Me in all.
    Arjuna! if a man sees everywhere—
    Taught by his own similitude—one Life,
    One Essence in the Evil and the Good,
    Hold him a Yogi, yea! well-perfected!

    Arjuna.
    Slayer of Madhu! yet again, this Yog,
    This Peace, derived from equanimity,
    Made known by thee—I see no fixity
    Therein, no rest, because the heart of men
    Is unfixed, Krishna! rash, tumultuous,
    Wilful and strong. It were all one, I think,
    To hold the wayward wind, as tame man's heart.

    Krishna.
    Hero long-armed! beyond denial, hard
    Man's heart is to restrain, and wavering;
    Yet may it grow restrained by habit, Prince!
    By wont of self-command. This Yog, I say,
    Cometh not lightly to th' ungoverned ones;
    But he who will be master of himself
    Shall win it, if he stoutly strive thereto.

    Arjuna.
    And what road goeth he who, having faith,
    Fails, Krishna! in the striving; falling back
    From holiness, missing the perfect rule?
    Is he not lost, straying from Brahma's light,
    Like the vain cloud, which floats 'twixt earth and heaven
    When lightning splits it, and it vanisheth?
    Fain would I hear thee answer me herein,
    Since, Krishna! none save thou can clear the doubt.

    Krishna.
    He is not lost, thou Son of Pritha! No!
    Nor earth, nor heaven is forfeit, even for him,
    Because no heart that holds one right desire
    Treadeth the road of loss! He who should fail,
    Desiring righteousness, cometh at death
    Unto the Region of the Just; dwells there
    Measureless years, and being born anew,
    Beginneth life again in some fair home
    Amid the mild and happy. It may chance
    He doth descend into a Yogin house
    On Virtue's breast; but that is rare! Such birth
    Is hard to be obtained on this earth, Chief!
    So hath he back again what heights of heart
    He did achieve, and so he strives anew
    To perfectness, with better hope, dear Prince!
    For by the old desire he is drawn on
    Unwittingly; and only to desire
    The purity of Yog is to pass
    Beyond the Sabdabrahm, the spoken Ved.
    But, being Yogi, striving strong and long,
    Purged from transgressions, perfected by births
    Following on births, he plants his feet at last
    Upon the farther path. Such as one ranks
    Above ascetics, higher than the wise,
    Beyond achievers of vast deeds! Be thou
    Yogi Arjuna! And of such believe,
    Truest and best is he who worships Me
    With inmost soul, stayed on My Mystery!

    HERE ENDETH CHAPTER VI. OF THE BHAGAVAD-GITA,
    Entitled "Atmasanyamayog,"
    Or "The Book of Religion by Self-Restraint."


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